


In the Closet

by Ivyfics (ivannab)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Ass to Mouth, Barebacking, DUN DUN, Daddy Kink, Developing Relationship, Everybody Bottoms, FaceFucking, M/M, Spanking, Tsukki & Kuroo get stuck, Voyeurism, handjobs, listen, not ot4, or is it??????, they all get a ride on the dick train
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-01-07 19:13:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12238998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivannab/pseuds/Ivyfics
Summary: Of all the places on earth Kei should be right now, like on his way to the showers, or by his locker packing up to leave for his next class,here, in the small, cramped, closet of the visitor’s team locker room, is not it.Kinktober #1:  Voyeurism





	1. Accidentally?

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeeeeeeeeeey, Kinktober is here. I won't post daily, but I will include all the prompts in as many separate pieces I end up posting. So far there are two significantly bigger one-shots that will be going up later in the month, and a bunch of smaller pieces like this. 
> 
> Let me know what you think!

They should not be here. They should not be here at all.

He shouldn’t have been here in the first place.

Of all the places on earth Kei should be right now, like on his way to the showers, or by his locker packing up to leave for his next class, _here_ , in the small, cramped, closet of the visitor’s team locker room, is not it.

Kei is going to lose it.

Oikawa’s voice is barely audible, but just enough to grace them with a whine of “Daddy, please…”

Kuroo stiffens, face going red from lack of oxygen before wheezing out, “Oh my fucking god. His boyfriend has a daddy kink, I’m never letting him live this down.”

As fun as this might seem to Kuroo, he does not want to be here while Oikawa, his teammate, whom he has to see every practice, indulges in whatever kink he might enjoy with his boyfriend unknowing of the two add-ons hiding in the closet.

He almost snorts at the thought. Kei hasn’t been in the closet in like ten years.

Iwaizumi’s chuckle reaches them loud and clear, not bothering to lower his voice. “You want it here, baby?”

“Oh my god.”

“Yes, daddy.”

“You’re going to be good for me?”

“I’ll be good.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Will you be quiet! They’re going to know we’re here, ” Kei hisses at Kuroo, face red and palms sweating.

Kuroo looks at him. Stares. Turns to look in between the slats, then back at him. “I, in all honesty and in a real assessment of my capabilities, am not entirely sure I can stay quiet.”

Kei stares him down in the dimness of the cramped place they stuffed themselves in when the door they forgot to lock opened.

“Do you see the guy your roommate is hanging off of? Your teammate with the big arms? Do you want _him_ knowing you’re here and that you saw a very private moment of theirs that involves a daddy kink being exposed?” Kei shudders at the next thought, whisper tinged with apprehension. “Do you want _Oikawa_ to know?”

Even if they tried to leave swiftly, Oikawa did not forget to lock the door behind him like it’s amateur hour. This is his and Kuroo’s makeout-and-other-stuff locker room. They should have this shit on lockdown.

Kuroo winces and gives him a pained look, teeth digging into his bottom lip. If the situation were different, like the kind he followed Kuroo into the unused locker room for, he’d give in to the temptation to bite into it.

“Iwaizumi is a nice guy, he won’t kill us. Probably.”

“And Oikawa?”

Kuroo looks afraid. “So, we have to be as quiet as possible.” 

Kei would be worried about the level of noise they’re making right now if it weren’t for the sounds coming from the couple outside.

There’s a loud _crack_ followed by long, filthy moan and both their heads jerk to look between the slats.

Oikawa is spread facing a row of lockers, arms bracing him and ass sticking out. His naked ass, Kei might add—which he has seen before, because that’s what happens when your lockers are right next to each other, but never in this light, or in that particular angle, red skin flushed—shorts discarded to the side.

Iwaizumi’s hands are running over the reddened skin of his cheeks before lifting and smacking again.

Another _crack!_

Jesus, that’s his spiking hand.

That thought sends a shiver through him.

Was Oikawa waiting for this the whole time they were going against each other? Every time Iwaizumi spiked, when he heard the resounding thud against the floor when he managed to get past Kei and the other blockers?

Every hit is followed by a moan, each one getting louder than the last. Kei is glad he’s not making Oikawa count or the throbbing in his pants might intensify, loose clothing doing nothing to hide his bulge.

Kuroo is pressed up against him to get a good angle and his thigh rubs against the fabric of Kei’s shorts, just enough to feel something hard poking against him. Kei eyes haven’t left the scene in front of him, tracking the fingers Iwaizumi is using to open Oikawa up, so he doesn’t notice the set that’s reaching out to cup against him until they make contact.

It takes all of his willpower not to yelp. “What are you doing?”

Kuroo shrugs. The hand not being used to tease Kei’s dick is down his own pants, fondling himself, so the shrug is minute. “Might as well.”

“You’re a sketchy person with a dubious sense of morality.”

Kuroo scoffs at him, palming the head of his cock over the shorts. “Don’t act like you’re not hard.”

Kei rolls his eyes. “I need glasses, I’m not blind. Or deaf.”

Leaning over to kiss him, black hair tickles his cheek when Kuroo whispers, “We were going to do this anyway, now we have a show to watch.”

Whatever protest he has left is smushed when Kuroo shoves his hand down his pants and cups him without any dulling barriers. Okay, yeah, he’s hard and ignoring Oikawa getting rammed against the lockers outside is not a possibility so he’s going to stay hard unless they do something about it.

The heat from Kuroo’s body is intensified in the small confines of the closet, beams of light trickling in from the slats falling on the bottom part of his face and down to his chest. It’s what lets him see the smirk that crawls on his face. That cannot be good news. 

Kei’s proven right when Kuroo kisses him again before he lays words against his lips. “I’ll do all the work, you just keep watching.”

He’d protest but a squeeze to his dick in warning keeps his all his focus on not letting any sound filter through.

Alright. Fine. He’ll peep at the two guys fucking while his sort of something dude gives him a handjob and touches himself.

He and Kuroo are kind of a thing, maybe, but that doesn’t mean he does not appreciate the two hot bodies fucking in front of him. He sees Oikawa train often but this a new look. He always keeps an air of dignity around him when he’s in the middle of it, focused.

Oikawa getting stuffed is a different story.

Hair disheveled, feverish eyes, ass red and trying to push back against the cock inside him.

Trying being the operative word.

He doesn’t know Iwaizumi well, only what Kuroo and Oikawa tell him, and whatever he learns from matches they’ve had together. What he does know is that holy shit, that back. Those arms.

Tan skin, muscles flexing and glistening with the exertion of keeping the muscular body underneath him still. Oikawa’s back is arched as much as he can with Iwaizumi’s grip on the side of his body and their hips slamming together. Iwaizumi is holding him down, only letting him have what he wants to give.

They have one mismatched uniform between them, Iwaizumi shirtless and with his shorts halfway down his ass, Oikawa with only his shirt bunched around his armpits.

It should not be as funny as it is, seeing that he’s hard with Kuroo’s hand working around him and trying very hard to be quiet.

Oikawa goes silent too, only he’s coming and gasping for air as Iwaizumi fucks him through it. Keeps going at it. Moves like his dick isn’t riding out Oikawa squeezing around him. Mark Kei down as impressed and horny.

Moans start filtering through again, lockers splattered with Oikawa’s cum.

Fuck, Kei is hard. The mean grin that blooms on Iwaizumi’s face only makes him harder.

Oikawa is wrenched to his knees by a hand on his shoulder, hard cock rubbing at his lips.

“Open up, baby.”

Kuroo is a fucking demon because somehow he feels something wet around him too and finds him kneeling and opening his mouth, tongue lolling out in offering, bringing the weeping head of Kei’s cock to rest on it. His eyes are full of mischief and he is going to pay for this. Kuroo wants him to fuck his mouth while he gets off to someone else? Fine.

Next time they fuck Kei is going to meet him with his ass stretched and plugged, and he’s gonna tell Kuroo to fuck him raw.

Fucking Kuroo.

Kei doesn’t think he stays quiet but he’s too far gone to try and stop himself, too busy grabbing the back of Kuroo’s head and thrusting.

Oikawa goes to town with it, slurping and squelching sounds high in the air.  He sucks Iwa off sloppy until he’s grabbing Oikawa by the hair.

Kei jolts at the merging of his senses, a dimensional warping where the strands on his hands are doe brown and not black, pink lips stretched around the girth of his cock with glee.

A loud grunt cracks the mirage and it’s Iwaizumi’s holding Oikawa still against his pelvis as he comes down his throat. His hips jerk, riding out his orgasm with heavy pants while Oikawa’s eyes water.

Somehow, he has the sense to signal his own impending orgasm by yanking hard on Kuroo’s hair, pulling him off Kei’s cock with a hiss, Kuroo’s hand coming up to finish him off.

When Iwaizumi backs off so he can breathe Oikawa doesn’t pull of completely but goes back to bobbing his head, cleaning all the extra mess.

Done, he leans back against the lockers and looks up at Iwaizumi, eyes still glazed and a loopy smile on his face. “Thank you, Daddy.”

That’s what does Kei in, Oikawa’s absolute and utter pleasure at being done on the floor of a shitty spare locker room, knees red, lips spit and cum shiny. The hand around his cock works him through his orgasm, Kuroo’s grip tightening while he milks Kei dry.

When his brain isn’t staticky anymore, Kei feels sticky, whatever cum landed on him cooling off and crusting in his shorts. That’s going to be a pain to get rid off.

Iwaizumi is cleaning up while Oikawa straightens up his clothes, hands running over the already forming bruises on his hips several times.

Kei’s breath isn’t labored anymore, and he glances over at Kuroo sitting on the floor with his hand still down his pants and his eyes closed. He looks like Kei feels, floaty.

He doesn’t know how much time he stands there, blinking at nothing while his brain reboots before turning back to look at the locker room.

They’re done cleaning up, lockers devoid of bodily fluids and Oikawa waddling out the door.

Iwaizumi takes one last glance around the room before stopping.

To stare right at Kei while smirking.

The door closes.

Kei lets his sweaty forehead slam against the slats, uncaring of the noise anymore, Kuroo too blissed out to care.

Apparently they were meant to be here after all.  


	2. Pinky Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooooooo. 
> 
> I got nothing.

“Iwaizumi wants to fuck me,” Kei says in passing while they have dinner, eyes buried in his phone, fingers scrolling down monotonously.  

Kuroo’s chopsticks clang against his plate, face going red as he chokes and reaches for his water. Kei continues, head not lifting from the screen, “Or us. I’m not sure yet, but I think maybe both of us.”

The place where they’re having dinner is nice in that it’s not teeming with people and the food is pretty good. They're alone for the most part, the only other patron sitting across the room on a stool, so Kei's not worried he's being overheard. Music playing in the background and the smell of fresh garlic has become familiar to him ever since they’ve taken to coming here after their dates— yes, there are dates now.

That’s a thing that they do.

They date.

They’re _dating._

And it’s going pretty well.

Turns out he can blow Kuroo in the bathroom and go on a nice date with him afterward.

Who knew?

Taking a deep settling breath, Kuroo takes a couple of sips. He’s staring at Kei from across the table, shoulder to the wall, face unreadable until it breaks out into a grin. “Alright, yeah, I can see it. Hard to think anyone would not want to fuck you. And now that we’re together? I’d want to fuck us too.”

Kuroo tone is everything but serious, borderline mocking, and Kei’s head snaps up. He’s being legit, Iwaizumi wants to fuck him. He’s sure of it. “You do know he locked us in on purpose, right?”

“So you keep saying,” Kuroo says in that irritating tone again right before he steals a bite from Kei’s half-eaten plate, “but it’s kinda hard to picture. I know the guy, you have no idea how possessive he gets about Oikawa. I think that extends to letting your teammates seeing you have a kinky quicky in the locker room.”

Setting the phone down, Kei bats away Kuroo’s chopsticks. He’s not going to eat it all but Kuroo’s not getting any until he agrees. “Not if you’re a filthy exhibitionist. He stared right at me and smirked, why would I make this up?”

Kuroo shrugs across from him. “I’m not saying you made it up. Maybe he figured out we were there and didn’t want to make things awkward by calling us out or letting Oikawa know.”

“Yeah, didn’t want to make things awkward so he’s going to smirk at me right before leaving, flawless logic,” Kei mocks, only a little bitter.

Kuroo laughs. “Tsukki, c’mon.”

Kei looks at him. Really looks, looks at that condescending smile, at the curl of his lip, the way he’s still trying to steal food from Kei’s plate.

It’s infuriating.

He wants to wipe that smile right off.  

Kei pulls out one of his own, sharp. “I’m going to prove it.”

Brown eyes squint, face turning away with a huffed laugh. Ooooh, Kuroo’s so gonna get it. He doesn’t believe him and Kei’s going to make him eat his words. “What are you going to prove?”

“That I’m right. Because I am.”

“So you’re going to prove that Iwaizumi did that on purpose and that he wants fuck you slash us,” Kuroo drawls.

He sounds so amused. Asshole.

“Yes.”

Kuroo holds out his pinky. A challenge. “You sure?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Kei hisses out. His pinky hooks onto Kuroo’s outstretched one with violence. It kind of hurts Kei a little but it doesn’t matter because he has a point to prove. He holds them there above the table, squeezing hard before he lets go.

And just like that, Kuroo’s face falls into sleaze.

That exact grin has gotten Kei on his knees in places knees were never meant to be. Kuroo’s eyes are full of mischief, sparkling and staring right through him as he picks at Kei’s plate.

Motherfucker.

_Mother. Fucker._

The cat who got the canary.

“Can’t wait,” Kuroo mutters between chews.  

Kei keeps getting played but he can’t find it in himself to mind.

* * *

 Kei’s dorm isn’t messy. He’s not a slob, unlike his last roommate.  

He cried the day he got a single.

Happiest day of his entire college experience.

Kuroo likes to move things around. Kei doesn’t think it’s conscious, his hands just move on their own while he talks. Shifting a paper one centimeter to the right, then a smidge to the left, tapping on the desk, moving a pillow. Kei doesn’t have enough knickknacks for it to become tedious, so it’s—somehow— mostly endearing.

Right now, Kuroo’s hands are playing with a paperclip laying on Kei’s desk while he slouches on the chair.

“I need a game plan. And his motives.”

“Motives are simple,” Kuroo mumbles, entranced with the paperclip. At Kei’s silence, he elaborates. “You’re hot.”

Kei pins him with a stare, but Kuroo looks at him like he’s the dumb one. “Like _really_ hot.”

“Yes, obviously,” Kei agrees, because he is, “but it’s not like we see each other often, or talk at all.“

Kuroo’s face scrunches up, earning him a sigh from where Kei slumps on the bed. “What did you do?”

Kuroo bites his lip like he always does. “I, uh, talked about you a lot, maybe. Before we got together _together_. After, too.”

“Really?”

Kei’s intrigued. And a little horny from the dinner. He knows, okay, he’s self-aware, getting turned on by your boyfriend being a minor pain in your ass is how he’s built. Kei thrives on being a dick, so it’s only fair his dick does too.

He’s getting side-eyed. Again. “Did you expect me to land you and not talk about it? Even when we were just fucking.”

Kei plays along. Rises from the bed and makes his way until he’s sitting in Kuroo’s lap, facing him. Leans in and whispers against his mouth, “What’d you talk about? About my skills, or my looks?”

His voice is teasing, falling deeper into sultry as he goes on, “Maybe about how you begged me to suck your cock that first time? And how I got on my knees easy?”

Places a peck on Kuroo’s reddening cheek, “Or maybe how you came all the way to my college on my half hour break so that I could feed you my dick and my cum.”

Rubs his nose on the side of Kuroo’s neck where he’s ticklish, gets a shiver in return.“How I let you fuck me in the showers when you couldn’t hold it in anymore, even though everyone was still there?”

Trails his fingers up the column of his neck until he’s holding Kuroo’s face in his hands, making him look up at Kei’s eyes, breathes out, “Tell me.”

Getting Kuroo going is so easy. It shows on his face, clear as day.

It’s how they started the whole fuck buddies thing. A well-placed look here, a comment there, and next thing you know Kei’s nose is meeting Kuroo’s pelvis.

Even now, that tiny move has Kuroo’s half-chub pressing on Kei’s ass.

Kuroo sighs out, like waking from a dream, and cups him through denim. “You have a pretty cock, you know that? I love this cock. Sucking it, having it fuck my mouth.”

Kei nods. Kuroo’s been very… _vocal_ about it.

“I walked in on Oikawa blowing him y’know.”

“They probably let you. Probably knew you were gonna walk in the room the whole time.”

Kuroo’s hands come to Kei’s back, start trailing up and down. Sneak under fabric to meet warm skin. “Sometimes they don’t close the door all the way and I get a peek at Oikawa on his knees or on the edge of the bed, mouth filled and looking like he’s in heaven.”

Blood is rushing to Kei’s face, down to his groin. He should feel bad that this is getting him worked up so fast, but he doesn’t. Not even a little bit. He’s wiggling to push harder against Kuroo’s bulge without a single ounce of remorse. “Yeah. Like all he wants from life is a dick in his mouth.”

“It always happens when I talk about your cock. I talk about your cock a lot. Sorry about that,” Kuroo says, looking the least amount of sorry anyone has ever looked, turning his head where Kei’s grip has gone lax to kiss his palm.

Kei’s a hypocrite.

He can talk and talk about how easy Kuroo is, how he’s ready to go no matter the time or place but Kei is exactly the same. He’s worse.

That, right there?

That tiny kiss to his burning palm? It melts. Pulls a whine from him, smothered by the breath caught in his throat. “Kuroo.”

Kuroo closes his eyes for a second, brings his hands to grip Kei’s ass and grind on him like they’re teenagers trying to rub one off while their parents are downstairs. “Fuck. What do you want? You want my mouth? Wanna fuck it like I’m him? Close your eyes and fuck his mouth dirty?”

Kei rakes his nails on his scalp, down his neck, and to his arms. “You okay with that? Your boyfriend fucking your mouth, thinking of someone else. Using you like that?”

Kuroo’s hips jolt upward with a force and that’s all the answer Kei needs. “Ah. S’that it, Tetsu? You want me to use you?”

Kuroo shrugs, picks up the pace, “Like looking at you cum, don’t care why you do it.”

“Did you know they were gonna lock us in? Give us a taste,” he asks, but it’s showing plainly on Kuroo’s face. “No, you didn’t. That must have been a treat for you. You played it off so bad, like you didn’t care either way.”

“Didn’t know how you’d react. Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Hmm. You didn’t,” Kei grinds down hard, goes for the killing blow. “You got what you wanted, me cumming on you while getting off to someone else. Right, _Daddy_?”

Kuroo’s eyes go wide, frozen until a shiver runs racks his body where he’s under Kei.

 _Bingo_ _  
_

“Tsukki…”

Kei laughs, powered by all the blood rushing through his veins and a tad mean if he’s being honest, “Fuckin’ knew it. Should have seen your face when Oikawa said it.”

Except Kuroo’s face is doing something weird, like the complete opposite of how it was then. 

He looks unsure, and that stops Kei’s hips from moving. He enjoys how they play off each other, especially this thing where they go all out and Kei can let loose every filthy thought that runs through his head.

He doesn't want to this if it’s going to make Kuroo do that face.

Fuck, going steady made Kei go soft.

Where’s the edge now?

His new bio reads: _Would turn down hot fantasizing and kinky sex because it puts an uneasy look_ _on my boo’s face_.

Is this what being emotionally mature is?

Has he– _gasp!_ –grown as a person?

“Not weird?” Kuroo asks through his lip. Fuck, he needs to stop doing that before Kei gives in and starts biting whenever. 

He wants to say something along the lines of _We’re using our friends to get off and you’re worried about a daddy kink weirding me out?_

Instead, Kei shakes his head, brings Kuroo’s hand from his ass to cup where he’s straining against his jeans. “Hot.”

With that all bets are on again, Kuroo surging up while pressing Kei down on him so that he can rub off dirty, chair creaking. “How are you real?”

Kei bites down on his neck, pulling a moan. “Weren’t you gonna suck me, Daddy?”

* * *

Kei stretches out in his bed, cooling off. Kuroo’s already gone back to his own place after a text from Oikawa to not forget to take out the trash. Again. 

This makes it twice that they have orgasmed using their friends as fodder, except this time the aftermath isn’t filled with dread but with excitement.

Kei’s going to prove he’s right and if his reward is anything like Kuroo’s face when they promised, it’s going to be fantastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a turn. A longer one. 
> 
> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)


	3. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've taken to fucking with the door open and it yields.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Happy New Year to everyone, may 2018 be kind on all of us.

While Kei’s absolutely sure about the whole lock-in thing, he’s less steady as to how to prove it. 

So far the only thing that’s come out of it— aside from both of them, several times—is their new habit of fucking with the door ajar when in Kuroo’s apartment. 

Kei might have deliberately been moaning louder than usual, but Kuroo’s  _ never _ made that sound when getting sucked off before so he’s not the only one trying to be bait. 

It’s cute. 

The new sound, not the both of them being deliberately terrible to Kuroo’s roommate. Oikawa is the roommate though, so Kei remembers the last time Oikawa was insufferable and kindly does not give a shit anymore. He also remembers him getting dicked down against the lockers and pounds Kuroo harder into the bed. 

They’re not horrible enough to obviously start going at it when the other two, or just Oikawa, is in the apartment but rather adopted a  _ go with the flow _ attitude and hoped for either of them to arrive somewhere in the middle. Baby steps. 

No results so far.

Except for right now. 

It’s between him putting a hand on Kuroo’s back to press his chest harder into the bed and Kuroo’s back curving obscenely that Kei hears the door. Kuroo clenches around him with a terrible moan and, yeah, he heard too.

Sex with Kuroo is good. Going from dick appointments to fucking out his feelings has been a noticeable improvement in the sex department. There’s just something about having Kuroo under—or over, Kei doesn’t really mind when his boyfriend gets in a mood where all he wants to do is  _ ride _ — that makes it so much sweeter. 

Making Kuroo fall apart is one of his favorite pastimes. 

Another is poking at Kuroo until he snaps and fucks Kei rough. 

Good hobbies.

Back to the sex. It’s usually pretty great, their kinks match, they’re sexually compatible to a tee. 

This is…

What’s the right word?

Mindblowing.

It’s a special privilege, being able to see Kuroo fall apart so wildly just from the fact that they’re being heard.

There’s a corner of Kei’s psyche that’s dingy and mean and takes so much pleasure in bending over so that his mouth lines up with the flaming red tip of Kuroo’s ear, giving back some of the teasing that Kuroo’s known for. 

“Did you hear that? Somebody’s home.” He blows cool air against the red shell just for the sake of seeing Kuroo’s shiver at those words intensify.  It waves down his back and ends with a clench that makes Kei’s breath punch out, but it’s so worth it. Kuroo’s not letting up, working himself harder and faster against Kei, volume rising with each backward cant of his hips. 

Kei doesn’t stop him or try to hold him. Doesn’t think he could, not with the sound of that clicking door dancing around his brain. He’s enjoying it way too much to try and slow it down. 

He can, however, take full advantage of this opportunity. 

Kuroo is so preoccupied with fucking himself on Kei’s cock to think anything of Kei wrapping himself against Kuroo’s middle, arms holding steady over his ribcage, his abs. The high keen it forces from Kuroo’s mouth when Kei pulls them both upright to sit Kuroo fully on him is music to Kei’s ears, Kuroo’s thighs on the outside of his, both of them on their knees. 

Loud, surprised, and needy. 

The kind that would make him swell and sweat if he was them, outside listening in—and they are, Kei knows. Now it sends a throb through his length where it’s pressed inside Kuroo.  

Kei rakes his nails down Kuroo’s chest, just as he likes. 

Jumpstarts him into moving again. 

Kuroo does most of the work, Kei letting one of his arms keep them pressed together while the other goes on the see just how many red welts he can leave for Kuroo to find later. Kei’s hips thrust every now and again, mostly to hear Kuroo’s voice break on what can only be considered a yell at this point.

Kei loves this. 

Loves that Kuroo is so needy for it, aching to be heard and wanted by somebody else while Kei is the one inside him. 

Loves that it feels like he’s showing Kuroo off to everyone else. 

Loves that with every bead of sweat rolling down his back, the heat on his cheeks and his chest, he doesn’t know who he’d want more if he were them.

Want to have Kuroo writhe and slut out on his cock or be the one to feel something—someone— thick, hard, and hot inside?

But he doesn’t have to choose, because he’s the one balls-deep in his boyfriend’s ass, even if it feels like Kuroo’s fucking him. Using him to get the dicking that he wants, and  _ oh _ , he gets it now, gets what Kuroo meant—

Kei’s hip jerks hard, grip tightening on Kuroo’s hip. Starts thrusting up into Kuroo viciously because he’s the one fucking now, sinks his teeth on the meat of Kuroo’s shoulders with fury, reveling on the guttural sound it pulls from Kuroo. 

Instead of stilling him, the pain makes him more frantic to work himself on Kei’s cock and it breaks something inside Kei. It does. 

“You’re such a little slut,” he sneers and points his words with harder thrusts, hand holding tight to keep the jostling from separating them. He keeps his a voice low hiss, only for Kuroo to hear because this doesn’t belong to anyone else but the two of them. “Can’t fucking believe it. Gets you hot when they can hear you take it. You love it when I mark you up, when I bite and it hurts.” 

“Yes, yes, yes. Give it to me,” Kuroo chants, drops a hand to work over where he’s dripping.  “C’mon, give,” Kuroo snarls when Kei doesn’t start right away. 

Kei gives. Pushes against him, bites and chomps and rakes his nails over every piece of bare skin he can hold on to. Kuroo does the same, pink crescents swelling where he grips Kei’s body for support while they work to get themselves there. 

It’s not soft, or sweet. 

There’s no Kuroo drowning him in words of praise, or any trace of when they go slow and quiet, losing themselves in each other. It’s fast, hard. Uncoordinated and jerky, but they’re so close, they’re almost there—

Kei comes first because, as infuriating as it is, Kuroo’s stamina outlasts him more often than not. Kuroo takes over then, working Kei through his orgasm and clenching painfully on his sensitive dick when his hand brings him over the edge.

Kuroo stiffens, jolts, and slumps back. 

Kei’s got an armful of dead-weight boyfriend and smack of sweaty hair on his face. It takes every last ounce of energy he has to dump Kuroo onto a pillow and tie off his condom before face-planting on the bed, muscles shaking. 

* * *

Kuroo’s been out for a while, snoring coming through his face smushed against the pillow. Kei’s been treading the line between asleep and awake for the last half-hour or so, Kuroo’s warmth at his back where he curled into Kei and his orgasm lulling him to bed faster than usual. 

Eyes closing, he settles in. 

Then he hears it. 

A long, broken moan, followed by a gasp. 

It’s ringing and clear, slinking in along a pale line of light from where the door stands open. Neither of them had thought to close it, or the energy. 

Kei is tired enough to let it be and use it to fluster Kuroo tomorrow. Watch his face get red with excitement, the way other people do about sports teams or hobbies but they do when it involves their friends fucking.

Another moan breaks, and this time it snaps Kei up from his place on the bed, hand reaching out for his glasses. 

It’s not Oikawa. 

_ Motherfucker.  _

Another moan.

Willing every bone-tired limb to move, he treads to the sliver the open door shows him.  

Iwaizumi flushes all the way down his chest, and up to his ears. He’s also a lot more vocal that Kei has imagined, but he knows riding someone will do that to even the most stoic of people, himself included. 

He should go wake Kuroo up.  But he’s so tired from before, Kei really did work him to the bone. 

He’s not going to wake Kuroo up, no matter how much he wants to share the vision of Iwaizumi riding Oikawa on the couch. Doe brown hair is the only part of Oikawa he can see, head tilted up to meet Iwaizumi for a kiss, back facing Kuroo’s room. Iwaizumi is shirtless, not sweaty yet, and moving slow where he’s straddling Oikawa. 

They’re not being quiet, Oikawa’s light grunts and moans filtering through along with Iwaizumi’s. Kei is too entranced in how loud Oikawa is to notice Iwaizumi’s stare on him until it’s too late. Their eyes meet, again, no slats between them to vague the intent. That smirk from the locker room blooms back on Iwaizumi’s face until it’s cut short by one of Oikawa’s thrusts. 

Whelp.

Guess Kuroo owes him a right fucking.

Kei was right after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be Kei poking and prodding until Kuroo finally lost it but it took quite a turn. Anyway.  
> You can come yell at me on:  
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Iwa is devious. 
> 
> You can come yell at me on:   
> [Twitter ](https://twitter.com/ivyfics)  
> [NSFW Twitter](https://twitter.com/lilacsparklr)  
> [Tumblr ](http://ivyfics.tumblr.com/)


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